


Juniper Berries and Sweetpeas

by MaddRae



Series: The Daughter Series [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Family Member Death, Father-Daughter Relationship, Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 04:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddRae/pseuds/MaddRae
Summary: McCree had been thankful to get the recall - to have the chance to see the old team again, but there's a new addition that has everyone looking at the cowboy worriedly.





	Juniper Berries and Sweetpeas

The Overwatch recall could not have come at a better time for McCree. In the years since the organization’s downfall, the gunslinger hadn’t done anything too terribly bad, but there were a few times Jesse had started to wander down the wrong path. A few whiskey-fueled fights and unnecessary pistol draws had made him worry that he was regressing, falling back into patterns that caused more harm than good. Sure, he’d done his best to stick to warning shots, and he’d always stopped before beating anyone into the grave, but his grip had been slipping. Being a drifter meant there was no one around to smack sense into him or hold him back. The longer he was away from the grounding force of his former companions, the worse his mind and temper seemed to get. Seeing Winston’s call had brought a broad smile to his face. He’d gone to Gibraltar as fast as he could while still dodging the authorities.

During his meandering trip, McCree often daydreamed about his upcoming reunion: Reinhardt would greet him with a booming laugh and overly forceful slap on the back. Mercy would put a comforting hand on his arm and make a comment about his fraying hat. Winston would adjust his glasses while saying something warm and welcoming. Torbjorn would frown up at him, grumbling something about still smelling like cheap smokes. Of all the scenarios he had pictured, walking into an empty room on a silent base was not one of them. The gunslinger was instantly suspicious.

He wandered through the halls, calling out names at random, flashing skeptical looks at the emergency lights. Nothing. “The hell,” McCree asked quietly, scratching the back of his head. Now he was flat worried. “I swear if I came all the way down ‘ere just for a setup . . .” he grumbled. There was a sudden bang that made him whip Peacemaker out of its holster. It came from above. With his gun still at the ready, McCree headed back outside and toward the direction of the communications tower. Sure enough, the outline of five figures were milling about on a small landing far above him. The cowboy beamed and began shuffling up the long ladder.

McCree could hear everyone’s disgruntled voices before he was even halfway up the structure. “Of course they’re arguing,” he muttered with a smirk, “we always had a knack for that.” As he clambered up the last few rungs, no one looked back to him. Too busy snapping at each other.

“How did this happen,” Winston groaned.

“If anyone knows what happened here, it would be you,” Reinhardt huffed.

“There’s nothing wrong in the diagnostics,” the scientist defended himself.

“Well clearly there is yet another issue within your diagnostics then,” the thin blonde quipped.

“I know, Angela,” Winston mumbled.

“You should have stayed on top of the upkeep more,” Torbjorn hissed, elbow deep in an opened electrical panel.

“I was the only person here! There’s a lot of base to cover!”

“Yeah, cut the big guy some slack,” Tracer defended her friend.

“I’ve never had this problem happen before . . .” Winston sighed.

McCree chuckled and everyone twisted around to look at him, surprised. “And I’ve never had such a lousy ‘welcome back’ party before,” he drawled.

Smiles crossed each of the faces in front of him as Jesse opened his arms and grinned smugly. Just as he expected, Reinhardt burst out laughing and gripped McCree’s shoulder, giving it a violent shake.

“Jesse,” Dr. Ziegler cooed, “look at you, just as wild as ever – costume and all.”

“Just because it ain’t a pair of slacks or a pencil skirt don’t mean it’s not proper clothing, doc.”

“I, for one, am glad you haven’t changed,” Lena said wrapping her arms around the cowboy.

“At least _someone_ appreciates me.” He squeezed her back. His smile could no longer grow any wider.

“Perfect,” Torbjorn growled, “someone else to stand here and be useless.”

“Missed you too, old man,” McCree laughed at him. A crash pulled them all from their tender reconnections. It was quickly followed by another, louder this time. Or maybe closer. Then a third. And a whimper.

“Juniper!” Winston darted over to the far side of the tower and craned down to peer in a small hole. “Juniper? Are you alright?”

“Who,” McCree asked quietly.

“New girl,” Rinehardt whispered back.

“Only one small enough to fit in the service shaft,” Torbjorn explained while moving to Winston’s side.

Another pained sound came from behind the metal paneling of the base. “Well, I don’t think anything’s broken,” came a small voice, “but that hurt like _hell_.” The scientist and engineer both moved back, letting a young woman army crawl out into the open. She immediately flopped onto the ground with a groan.

Lena took a step closer to her, “What was all that noise?”

“I _may_ have sorta fallen a few times,” the girl mumbled into the ground.

“A few times,” Torbjorn scoffed.

“It ain’t exactly roomy in there,” she said sitting up. Angela knelt down next to her with a frown. “But I’m fine! Fell on all my metal limbs, mostly.”

“That does not mean damage hasn’t been done,” the doctor said looking her over.

“I know, I know,” the young woman said with a soft smile, “but I promise, I’d tell you if anything was hurting _too_ much.”

Mercy chuckled at her, gently taking the girl’s chin and examining her head, “If you say so, but please, do be careful.”

“Doin’ my best.” She was a cute little thing, but looked rather young, McCree realized. Then again, he had been little more than a sprout when he joined up as well.

“See, the girl’s fine,” Torbjorn said waving the medic off, “now, what did you find out?”

Back to business. “I found the issue,” the young woman said, “Give me some reinforced replacement wiring, a mid-sized blowtorch, a can of molecular lock, and twenty minutes – this place’ll be purring!”

“Was it the -” Winston started, one glare from the team’s newest member stopped him dead.

“Winston, honeydew, I love ya, but if you say ‘hydraulic compensator’ one more time we’re gonna have a problem,” she scowled.

McCree let out a loud laugh, “Oh, I like her!”

The girl’s eyes met his and her face instantly fell. She looked scared. His stomach churned. He wasn’t sure _why_ those dark eyes were making him feel so . . . unsteady, but Jesse’s blood suddenly felt cold.

“Oh, uh right,” Winston said awkwardly, “McCree, there’s someone I would like you to meet.” The massive scientist offered a hand to the girl, and she gave him a hesitant look back. After receiving a reassuring nod, she pulled herself to her feet.

Now that there weren’t so many bodies in the way of Jesse’s view of the girl, he could see a massive scar sprawling from the middle of her chest to the tip of her right shoulder and grazing the base of her neck. It was a pair of wings framing a simple skull hanging above a padlock. Deadlock’s symbol. He sighed regretfully. ‘Poor kid,’ he thought.

McCree cleared his throat and took a few slow steps toward her. He flashed a crooked smile, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. “It’s Juniper right?”

“Yes,” she said timidly.

He held his hand out to her, “A pleasure, little miss.”

It took her a moment longer than it should have, but she shook his hand while biting her lower lip, just barely smiling.

“So how did you end up joinin’ us,” McCree asked.

“I brought her,” Torbjorn butted in, “and now I’m taking her so we can get this base going again.” With a quick wave, the short man beckoned Juniper to the ladder. She gave McCree a quick shrug before slipping over the edge of the landing.

“That was kinda weird,” Lena mumbled from behind Jesse.

“Torbjorn is always focused on the task at hand,” Angela mused, “but Juniper is usually much more friendly.”

Winston moved to McCree’s side. “She’ll be okay,” he reassured everyone. Jesse couldn’t help but notice the scientist’s strained smile. “But you, old friend, must be tired from your journey. Let me show you to your room.”

McCree was skeptical, but also in desperate need of a place to kick up his feet. “I could go for a nap, but who are you callin’ old?”

The lumbering scientist eased up a bit. “My mistake. Come on, let’s head in.”

“McCree,” Reinhardt interjected, “how’s about I brew up some coffee and you join Lena and I for a round of cards, like old times?”

Before the gunslinger could get a word out Winston answered for him. “I think some rest is more what McCree needs.” The new head of Overwatch was suddenly nudging a baffled McCree away from his compatriots. Winston continued to shush and drag the man all the way to the base’s kitchen.

“Now, hold on,” snapped McCree digging his heels into the floor and ripping his arm from Winston’s grip. “What the hell is goin’ on here?!”

Winston glanced behind them before turning back to a severely confused cowboy. “Ugh, I’m sorry about all that,” he said sheepishly. It was strange to see such a large figure trying to make himself small. “I wasn’t sure how to handle all this.”

“All what,” McCree huffed, still aggravated.

“There is something you need to know,” Winston said slowly, mulling over his words, “but I can’t quite tell you what it is.”

Jesse sighed, “So you dragged me all the way over here to tell me nothin’?”

“I – no! Well, maybe.” He groaned again. “Look, this is really complicated.”

“Then tell me!”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Then why are we here?!”

“Because I told Juniper I’d help _her_ talk to you.”

McCree sighed heavily, “So it is about the girl.” Winston nodded. “She did seem reaFl frightened when she saw me,” the gunslinger said rubbing the bridge of his nose, leaning against a counter.

“I don’t know if ‘frightened’ is the right word, but she is worried, despite my telling her not to be,” Winston replied.

“Is this about that brand on her chest, the Deadlock symbol?”

“That’s a part of it, but honestly, it’s something much more than that.” The gunslinger gave him a doubtful look, making his friend let out a small chuckle. “Why don’t you just head to my lab and wait for Juniper. She’ll clear things up.”

A warry sigh rippled from McCree. “Big guy, you’re makin’ my gut knot up.”

Winston gave the cowboy a pat on the arm, “I have no doubt, but do us all a favor and just try to go in there with an open mind. I know that you’re a good man, you’ll be fine.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” McCree reeled. The look in Winston’s eye made Jesse shiver.

“Just go,” Winston prodded. “It’ll make sense after you talk to her.”

McCree felt rooted in place, unable to move. He had come back to Overwatch to make sense of his life again, not to have it thrown into more chaos.

“ _Go_ ,” Winston insisted softly. “I don’t think this is going to be as bad as I’m making it out to be.”

“Sure hope so,” McCree muttered, heading to the door.

He had been standing in the lab for ages – or more like half an hour – but the power had finally been restored, so McCree figured it was only a matter of time. But another five minutes passed. “How much longer am I going to stand here and stew,” he moaned, shuffling his feet and listening to his spurs jungle.

“Sorry,” came a small voice from behind him. He spun around, serape whipping wildly. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” Juniper stood in the doorway with Torbjorn behind her. The short engineer gave her a firm nod before heading down the hall, leaving them alone.  

“That’s alright,” he said toying with his collar nervously as the girl approached him. “Sounded like a hell of a job.”

She flushed, “It was. This place has some rather confusing sub-systems.”

McCree let out a small snort, “I can’t even imagine – I used to have a hard enough time getting the AC to work last time I was here.”

Juniper laughed, making the gunslinger relax a bit. He always felt a better about a stressful situation after a shared smile, but the ensuing silence was still powerfully awkward. The girl finally sighed, “I’m still keeping you waiting, ain’t I? Why don’t we sit down.” She took a seat at one of the lab’s workbenches and placed a well-worn envelope next to her. McCree sat down next to it.

“Winston said this had a little somethin’ to do with the Deadlocks,” he questioned gently.

Her forehead pinched, “Did he?”

“Yeah, but that’s ‘bout all he’d say.”

“Don’t hold it against him, he was only trying to do what I asked. But this isn’t really about the Deadlock gang, it's more about your time in Overwatch,” Juniper explained.

He frowned down at her – she was short, couldn’t be much over 5 five foot. “Overwatch?”

“Well, Blackwatch.”

“Oh,” he muttered thinning his lips.

“Yeah . . . ” Her body wavered to the side as if trying to squirm away from the conversation.

“What did I do,” McCree asked exasperatedly, leaning his head against the wall behind them, staring at the ceiling tiredly.

“What?”

“If this is about a frightened looking little girl, and me, _and_ Blackwatch, I musta screwed something up. So, what did I do?”

Juniper nodded slowly, “Well, do you remember a mission that took you to a little town in Wyoming?”

McCree’s face scrunched. “Yeah, a radical group of anti-omnic folks were planning some real nasty stuff.”

“Yep, that one. Do you remember the hotel you and the rest of Blackwatch stayed in, or the run-down little bar next to it?”

The gunslinger looked back to Juniper who was staring at him expectantly – those big brown eyes were making his blood run cold again. “How do ya know about all that?”

She shrugged, “People talk. Especially in a small town.”

He bobbed his head understandingly. “True enough. You from there?” She nodded. “Figures,” he sighed.

“But, uh,” she continued, “most importantly, do you remember the bartender you met back then?”

McCree blinked a few times, brow fully furrowed. “Yeah, I remember. There was a grumpy old man and a real cute red-head.”

Juniper smiled, but still had an anxious look to her. “I meant the red-head.” She cleared her throat after a moment, “So, about that bartender – she was my mom.”

An unfamiliar sense of dread swept up his back. “What now,” he sputtered dryly.

The girl let out a low groan and ran her fingers through her unruly chocolate brown hair. ‘Ah shit,’ ran through his mind as he realized how much it looked like his own. Jesse’s heart stopped, and his chest seized. His one flesh palm was instantly clammy, and his stomach flopped a dozen times within the next second.

“I didn’t mind to, uhm, bombard you, but I didn’t really know how else to tell you,” Juniper all but whispered after a few minutes of McCree staring at the opposite wall with his hand over his face – numb to everything but his own frantic thoughts. All of a sudden nothing made sense. There was too much to take in. Nothing stuck. Until her tiny voice rang in his ear again. It was kinda pretty – would be prettier if she didn’t sound so damn sad. “Sorry,” she shrugged softly at him when he turned back to her.

“Ah, kiddo,” he crooned, “you ain’t got to apologize. Don’t think you could’a said that any softer.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “You, uh, you are saying you’re _my_ kid, right?”

A light laugh escaped from the girl, bringing a bashful smile with it. “Yes, yes I am. At least, I’m relatively sure that’s the case.” She twisted and grabbed the envelope she’d set by her side, pulling a photo from it. “Here,” Juniper said offering it to him.

The edges of the picture were somewhat ragged, but the image was still clear and sweet. Painfully sweet. McCree recognized the young woman he’d taken a liking to all those years ago instantly – frizzy ponytail and a smattering of big freckles dotted around her face. She looked wildly happy, happier than he’d ever seen her, and who could blame the woman? That squishy bundle in her arms was beautiful. Stunning. All pudgy and scrunched and _perfect_. He chuckled and grinned. “That’s you?”

“Yep.” Juniper’s teeth were firmly planted in her lower lip. She was staring at her mother over his shoulder.

“You had a hell of a head of hair!”

She went bright red and closed her eyes tightly. “Everyone says that.”

“You were adorable,” he said softly as his heart swelled almost painfully.

“Thanks.”

“Where’s your mom now?”

Her face fell. “She died, not long after that was taken.”

“What,” he grimaced.

“She got very, very sick not long before having me, but she still wanted to try. She was hopeful, but . . . well,” Juniper trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” McCree murmured through a pang of guilt.

“It’s not something you have to say sorry for. It’s just something that happened. It isn’t anyone’s fault.” Her voice was firm, like she’d said this before – maybe to herself – a thousand times before. The way she said it made him feel twice as shitty.

“Wait,” McCree began to stammer,” w-were you alone?”

Juniper wiped her eyes briefly before shaking her head, “No. There’s was a woman who looked after me until I saw about three then she passed me off to the man who raised me – Harris.”

He could tell from the fond look on her face there was a lot of love there. He was glad. “Good guy?”

“Yes,” she replied, voice dripping with nostalgia, “Gruff and a bit demanding at times, but in a supportive way. Usually. He was the one who taught me to work on omnics and integrated prosthetics – trained me in my livelihood.” She looked proud. It was cute.

“I’m glad you had somebody lookin’ out for ya.”

“Me too. He was a good man.”

“Was?”

“He’s gone, too.”

McCree’s head dropped. “Ah Christ,” he moaned dismally.

“Mmhmm. Everything went to hell after that.”

“Whatdaya mean?”

She gave him a sad smile, “It’s a long story, you don’t have to listen to it if you don’t want. I’m just glad I got to –”

“No, no, no,” he butt in shaking his head wildly, “I want to hear it. All of it.”

One of her brows flew up, “Really?”

“Of course,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“A lot of it in’t a pretty story.”

He shrugged, “But it’s _your_ story.”

A wide smile blossomed on Juniper face that made McCree feel warm. “Alright,” she agreed, “but I warned you.” She shifted into a more comfortable position, toying with her hair as she spoke.

“I was fifteen when the anti-omnic, ‘purity’ promoting extremists blew up our shop.”

“Um, blew up?!”

“Yep,” she continued staring into the distance, “they didn’t like that we helped omnics and people who had augmented their bodies with machinery. It had just been broken windows and threats until that night. Dunno what set them off or how they pulled it off, but there was a blast and next thing I knew it was all fire and pain and screaming and draggin’ myself to the exit. Thankfully I don’t remember much of it now, but I do remember waking up in the hospital with no legs and Harris nowhere to be found.”

“No – no legs,” McCree basically whimpered. Juniper grabbed each of her pant legs and pulled them up a little to reveal the metal underneath. Both legs and her left arm. All prosthetics. “Oh, ho, ho, ho,” he said rubbing his chin. “Damn.”

“Three out of four’s not bad, right,” she quipped jokingly.

“I mean -” he said choking out a rough laugh. He’d never minded a dark sense of humor, but it was a little harder to swallow when it came from her.

“Hey,” she said tenderly, “I’m alright.”

“You got blown up and lost the man who raised you – that’s not ‘alright.’”

“True,” she nodded, “but I’ve come a long way since then.” McCree smiled, assuming her story was about to get better. Foolish assumption. “Especially since as soon as I was able to walk again the Deadlocks found me,” she huffed.

“Aw, for the love of -” McCree growled smacking his head into his hands.

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

“They came to you,” the gunslinger questioned with a scowl once he felt prepared enough to hear the next dreadful thing that had happened to Juniper.

“They sure did. The Deadlocks had somehow heard there was a young, grieving teen with a knack for tweaking prosthetics in a ‘chop-shop’ sort of way. They wanted to coerce me into joining.”

“Wait,” he said mulling over her words, “A bunch of Deadlock recruits came all the way to Wyoming just for you? No offense! I’m sure you’re real good at what you do,” McCree back-peddled.

She laughed and waved him off, “You’re fine. And you’re right – it was a long way to go for one kid, but somehow the gang knew I was _your_ kid. That convinced them. The, ah, the Deadlocks never really forgave what you did to them – the betrayal and all. They had some real nasty revenge plans in mind for you with me right in the center.” Juniper ran her fingers along the burns on her chest – the wings around the skull.

“You joined ‘em though,” McCree asked worriedly.

“Yes I did,” she sighed. But then she jumped in surprise, giving Jesse an apologetic look, “But I didn’t know about all the revenge stuff when I joined – I swear! I have never had any plan to come after you or anything, honest!”

McCree let out a hearty laugh, “Gotta admit, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Sorry,” she giggled, “I probably should’ve led with that. Vengeance isn’t why I went off and joined the gun-running game.”

“Then why did you?”

Her hands went back into her locks as she shrugged. “I was alone. And scared. Angry, too, if I’m honest. My whole life had been torn apart and these guys had just wandered up to me offering a chance to be a part of something. They called it ‘a family,’ ‘a way to make things better.’ I know now that it was a carefully crafted sales pitch, but I fell for it. Wholeheartedly.” She rolled her neck and stared at the floor. “I was stupid and weak. Walked out of the hospital with a smile on my face and vipers at my sides.”

“It ain’t all your fault,” McCree said firmly, “the Deadlock’s are manipulative bastards. They know exactly what to say and exactly where to press to rope people in. An’ you were fifteen!” He huffed out a wary noise, “Believe me, I know what  . . . all of that is like.”

“But you got out,” Juniper said leaning toward him just a hair, “and I did too, after a few months.”

“Just a few months,” McCree repeated, “damn, you did a hell of a lot better than I did.”

“It felt like a lot longer when I was there. Everything felt wrong – I was _not_ cut out for life in a distrustful criminal enterprise. I ran as soon as they started pushing me to weaponize people limbs and mass produce explosive rounds.”

“Good for you,” McCree said proudly.

“Well, I had to try to run a few times, but yeah, I got it eventually.” Her hand ran along the scar again, pressing into it as if trying to relieve some lingering pain.

“Is that when they gave you the brand?”

She nodded slowly, “So I could never get away from them. Not really.”

McCree hissed out an infuriated noise, unable to find the words to accurately describe how much he wanted to strangle every last Deadlock he could find.

“But it healed,” Juniper insisted, “I managed to keep it cleaned up while I was on the road.”

“Where did you go?”

“As far away as I could for a while. I just booked it at first,” she laughed. “I wasn’t very good at being a drifter, but I made it work. Most of the towns I passed through had repair work I could do for food or shelter, so I got by.”

“You’re a tough little thing,” McCree chuckled impressed, “aren’t ya?”

She shrugged, “I try. And, to be honest, I’m good at putting on a brave face.” Her head bowed a bit. “It was rough a lot of the time.”

A sudden, almost overwhelming urge to slide across the bench and hold the girl came over McCree, but he held back. Every time she glanced over at him, it was just a peek, a fraction of a second before she pulled away again. If she needed space, he could understand, but he couldn’t stop his arms from twitching toward her, just barely.

“Have things been any better now that you’re here,” he pressed after a thick silence.

“Yes,” she beamed. “Absolutely! Everyone has been wonderful to me and not having to look for a dry place to sleep has been _so nice._ Man did I take that for granted growing up!”

“Good, good,” he smirked leaning back, “I gotta say, I’ve never seen Torbjorn take to anyone so well.”

A warm, comforting laugh burst from Juniper’s chest. McCree instantly wanted to hear it again. “That’s what all the others said, too! I guess he sees something in me. When I met him, he had busted into an old omnic research facility that I was camping out in. I helped him with the corrupted bots in there and then he up and asked me if I wanted to join Overwatch.”

“Just like that,” McCree asked with a raised brow.

“Just like that!”

Her smile was broad and beautiful, it lit up her eyes this time. She was such a beautiful little thing.

“Although,” she began again, “Winston said it would better if we wait until after my birthday.” McCree frowned at her confusedly. “Until after I’m 18.”

The cowboy rocked back, flabbergasted, desperately doing some mental arithmetic. “Oh shit,” he scoffed, “You’re only 17 now, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Damn,” he hissed again. “All that, before ya even turned 18.”

“’Fraid so.” Juniper didn’t look particularly distraught as she bobbed her shoulders nonchalantly, which mystified McCree.

‘Resilient lil’ sweetpea,’ he thought lightheartedly.

“Anywho,” Juniper breathed slowly, “I know that was probably a lot to hear, a lot to take in, but there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you.”

Her tone of voice made the gunslinger’s gut knot up. “Alright,” he said nervously.

“I- I just want you to know that -” She faltered, gnawing her lip and looking more nervous than he’d seen her since they began speaking – as if _now_ she had something truly troubling to say.

‘What more could there be,’ McCree thought desperately.

Juniper steadied herself before speaking again, staring at the ground. “I want you to know that I understand that you are your own person with your own life, so if you don’t want to – I guess, be my -” She sounded choked up, but laughed through the sob McCree could tell was welling in her throat. “What I’m saying is, I know I would be a lot to take on, and I know you already got a lot going on, so if you don’t want . . . me, I get it.”

McCree sat motionless, face twisted into a baffled look, slightly hunched over. “What now,” he asked breathlessly.

“I said that I -” Juniper repeated slowly, her body curling in on itself.

“I – I heard ya,” McCree said shaking his head and shifting into a more natural stance, “I was just surprised you said it is all.” She looked beyond worried, more frightened – like the next word out of his mouth could cut her in half. With a jolt, McCree realized all the endearing little things he had been thinking about Juniper hadn’t gone any further than his own mind. “Kiddo,” he chuckled tossing his caution to the wind and scooting closer to her, “what on Earth makes you think I’d want that?”

She went bright red, a wild smile springing onto her cheeks. “I dunno,” she said with a timid shrug, “You heard everything I just said – I’m sort of a giant mess.”

“Juniper,” he drawled, the name feeling perfect when he said it, “I know I’ve only known you all of ten minutes, but I don’t think you sound like a mess at all.” He slowly reached over and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her muscles tensed for a split second, but her smile grew. He’d never smiled so hard in his life. “Sounds to me like you’re strong, and thoughtful, and resourceful, and smart – real damn smart.”

She giggled – a light, bright noise that made the cowboy’s heart swell. “I try my best,” Juniper murmured.

“I can tell,” McCree smirked, “and – if you’ll give me the chance –  I’d like to do my best to do right by you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she assured him softly, “I don’t blame you or anything.”

“But I want to,” he insisted with a grin. “Kid, you’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! I can’t think of anything I want more than just to have you around. I only wish I could have met you a little sooner.”

Juniper laughed again, the sound tumbling from her as tears welled in her big brown eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, Juniper, of course,” he said shaking her gently, “but if I’m, uh, being too much -”

“No,” she squeaked, grabbing McCree’s hand as he began to move it away from her. “You’re fine – better than fine! This is more than I had ever dared to hope for,” she said sniffling and smirking.

“Aw, kiddo,” he smiled, definitely tearing up as well, “I think I know exactly how you feel.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- Originally Posted at my Tumblr: prettyfunkyunorganized.tumblr.com  
> \- Based on a friend's headcanon post (link pending).


End file.
